The good life
by Secrets-0f-dreams
Summary: On a cold winter's eve, Mary sits alone in the silence and lets her mind wander. Sometimes all you need is a glass of eggnog and a thought to the future to know it's the good life.


Snowflakes were gently flying through the air outside the window, making Mary smile gently as she tracked their movements with her eyes. She loved watching snowflakes, each one perfectly unique and so graceful. Watching them was calming and quiet, and being able to be warm in front of the fire whilst still seeing them was even more wonderful.

Wrapping her hands tighter around her eggnog, she reveled in the silence around. Silence didn't come too often to 221B, especially not at Christmas so it was important to her to appreciate it. Whilst John and Sherlock were out in their moment of chaos she could sit and listen to the nothingness. No, that sounded sad. This silence was beautiful and if it had its own music, Mary would probably be moved to tears.

It was times like this, sat alone, that Mary began to think deeply. Not serious things but anything in general, as if her mind appreciated some quality time to run through any thoughts. What they might have for dinner, whether Sherlock would play his violin tonight, if the cat she'd seen last night was still in her garden. That sort of stuff, nice and simple everyday stuff that made the world go round.  
>Her whole life had always been a recipe for chaos, so she looked hard for the moments of rest just to breathe. Not that she was complaining about her lifestyle, she didn't know where she'd be without it but sometimes it just got too heavy, she liked to be able to step away for a moment. That desire was why she loved been around John so much.<p>

John was like her air. He was real and true and he brought her back when she felt as if she was lost in the chaos. At the end of a hard day he'd bring her tea and talk about normal things and to Mary, they were special moments. Even thinking on them now made her smile. Every moment with him was treasured because she didn't know what she'd do without them, without him.  
>John was her comfort. Her companion. Her savior.<p>

Thinking on him now only made her miss him further so she turned her attention back to the warm beverage in her hand and smiled. Very soon he would be back and they would be sitting side by side drinking more eggnog and eating shortbread whilst Sherlock either paced the floor thinking or made a mess in the kitchen. A typical, wonderful night in with her family was what that was and suddenly Mary was so nostalgic for it that she willed time to move faster, even thinking on calling John back before stopping herself.  
>John and Sherlock's time together was important too and she wasn't going to involve herself in it. The friendship they had was like a little bubble enclosing the two in a world of their own; Mary was in love with the bond they had and it was a pleasure just to see them together, to know the world had a Sherlock and John, the detective and the doctorblogger.

It always was a reoccurring thought whether that would always be the case. If they all reached an old age would their lives still be the same? She wondered Whether they'd still be at 221B (well, Sherlock living and them visiting) and whether Sherlock and John would be still running through the streets with their coats flying behind them, hunters with wings. She could just imagine them twenty years down the line coming home from a case and complaining of back ache or something, and then stating how they weren't as young as they used to be. Then they'd all reminisce in the times that they were currently living and she'd think about this moment and laugh to them 'it's exactly how I imagined it'.

Well, Mary thought, for however long it lasted, they had a special life that she wouldn't trade for the whole world. No matter what the future held for them, they had each other to lean on whether it was John hugging the worries away or her knowing what Sherlock was saying in his silence. They'd be a team for all time and it was that thought that made Mary so grateful to be alive in this moment.

The next moment though was even better as the door slammed from downstairs and two sets of footsteps, one stomping and one striding, travelled up the stairs to 221B and through the door, breaking that beautiful silence though Mary didn't mind now. Her family was home.

As predicted they were soaked to the bone and she had to laugh at John's scowling face as water dripped down his face.

"He-" pointing at Sherlock with a glare, "pushed me into a snowball fight and then ran off. And he had the cheek to make me pay for the cab"

Shaking her head fondly she handed him a towel followed by a kiss, before turning on the overgrown man child who was now drinking her eggnog. Honestly, sometimes it was as if she was the only adult around here.

"Sherlock" it was hard not to smile at him, especially when he looked up with eggnog all on his top lip.

"Mary?"

"Yes, that is a nice innocent tone you have there. You're still doing the dishes tonight"

Ignoring his scowl, she wrapped the spare towel round his shoulders and took her drink back before handing him his own. Then she sat back down by the fire and leaned into John with a contented sigh.  
>Childish squabbles and plates of cookies and snowflakes falling at Christmas.<p>

It was the good life.


End file.
